Fast Car
by crestfallen hostility
Summary: You got a fast car, but is it fast enough so we can fly away? ...  Alfons coaxes a broken Edward one frail midnight in Munich, Germany. EDXHEI!FRIENDSHIP!DRUNK ED  rated T for language and physical abuse.


A/N: I'm coming out with another depressing piece. Just watched the saddest movie, and staring at my desktop screen gave me an idea. Basically, Ed and Alfons talk about Germany and all of that. But this time Ed is drunk. Kind of cute. Hope you like it.

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**Fast Car [EdxHei]**

_You got a fast car _

_But is it fast enough so we can fly away _

_We gotta make a decision _

_We leave tonight or live and die this way _

_

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_

Cold. Very cold. Silver snowflakes fell gently on frosty sidewalks, covering roofs and boarding up doors. It rarely snowed heavily in Munich, but when it did, depression ran rampant. As the temperature dropped from 32 to 30 light frost began surrounding the coldest parts of windows, leaving only a small selection free. Though they did not crack, dangerous small silver lines moved up out of the swollen wooden frames. Because every house in Munich seemed cursed with chills and, the equation indefinitely included Alfons Heiderich's own home.

He sat in a warm red satin chair, flipping through an old book on chemistry - a parcel which Edward Elric, his inmate, owned. It was strange. None of these theorems and equations he recognized, lined with strange artistic symbols reminding him of religious pentagons. Of course he knew about Alchemy, but it was scientific fantasy on Earth, revered long ago as the roots of modern physics and elemental science. Though still practiced by many, Alfons saw it pointless and slightly deflating. How could nothing become anything? Transmuting elements happened naturally, not by hand. He supposed, however, it possible to do. Besides, why would Edward care so much about something completely fictional, as if stuck in a stillborn reverie?

How long since Ed left for the market? Alfons eagerly watched the snow-covered window, in bated breath of the blond haired man's familiar face appearing out of the grim alleyway. Turning his head, Alfons stared painfully into the burning flames lighting his god forsaken cabin; for a second, the man's face appear in the crackling flames, only to be swallowed up by dark blue embers. That sullen, expressionless smile haunted Alfons his dreams, creating unimaginable guilt for something he had not done. Shivering, the lighter male rose out of the chair and placed the old book back on the dresser. His blond hair bobbed with the movement, bangs parted to the left as always.

Alfons found it strange how Ed loved comparing him to Alphonse, Edward's younger brother. It often angered him, as it seemed Edward always briskly shoved Alfons' own existence away while musing over his lost sibling. Of course it was never denoted, but through unspoken lips Edward shared his truest thoughts of the rocket scientist in desolate silence.

In fact, Edward Elric looked like another Alfons knew. His older cousin, Eduard, died in a fire nearly three years ago.

This was almost five days before Edward arrived.

Though Alfons Heiderich seemed older than Edward in many respects, **Alfons'**** compassion for others** created a painful, unseen barrier between himself and his counterpart. While Ed might gripe and groan about dropping off outgrown clothes at the Salvation Army stand, excusing them as "we might want that old shirt… someday", Alfons contributed willingly and quite abundantly.

Alfons spotted brass colored hair peeking out from behind the alley's concrete wall, a familiar ponytail now mottled and undone. Staggered, the man leaned against the alley's back for support, his body sinking lower and lower against said wall. The stranger looked disheveled; his vest unbuttoned and sprawled across his back, shirt unbuckled and cuffs unbuttoned. Alfons watched him, his slight frown darkening and dipping farther south. A paper bag clutched in the man's fist trembled; the fingers curled around it seemed white as snow. Alfons recognized the bag contained wine.

Naturally, Edward carried a real sweet-tooth for alcohol. Though the younger boy petitioned as a completely sober male, depression and anxiety took their toll with dire consequences; he usually came home late, drunk, and wasted, blabbering on about nonsense like alchemy and "homunculi". While most people seemed either stupid or completely mindless when drunk, Edward appeared miserable, feisty and angry. Setting him off, even something as harmless as a shoulder nudge, might earn you a painful punch in the cheek with his prosthetic fist. If Ed came home _heavily_ drunk, the rules still applied. However, if he was _forcefully_ getting drunk, he became flirtatious and inappropriate. And when Edward flew over the top, meaning at least three bottles of whatever he drank, not only would Ed endure a painful hangover, he became horny as hell. Alfons only hoped that Ed hadn't reached that stage.

Tonight, Ed, as drunk as a cat is high on catnip, stumbled through the unlocked door like a zombie searching for brains and flesh. Catching himself, he threw his head back, drowning his throat with more wine, and fell back against the wall. "Damn…" He faltered towards the couch, flopping onto the soft cushions with his holy bottle still grasped in his hand.

"What did you find out this time?" Alfons' voice held not expression as he stared at Edward with steely blue eyes. Turning his head, the alchemist blinked somberly, as if putting off the other's annoyance. He shrugged, resting his head back on what seemed as a comfortable pillow.

Ed shivered, crossing his arms over his chest. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling with darkened eyes. "Edward…" Alfons whispered, attempting whatever communication he could with the disjointed boy.

"Leave me alone…" Edward turned over, back facing Alfons, throwing all hopes of secret busting out the window. Feeling shunned, Alfons hung his head, deep blue eyes flicking over from Ed to the Chemistry book. Sometimes the Non-German could be so cruel and cold.

Ed mumbled, his tone dark and defiant. "I wanna leave… this place…"

Alfons, the attractive idiot he was, realized Ed spoke of Germany. His heart bled from an unseen stab.

"I hate it here…" Ed's voice slurred as he swished another mouthful of champagne.

Even though Ed wasn't fully aware of what he was saying, Alfons knew truth dug deep within those words. Ed drank in silent resistance against the Nazi party and all Germans. In fact, he hated everything that wasn't part of his stupid story. "I don't know how crazy you are," Alfons started, hands balled in a fist, "but that story of yours is not true. At all."

Alfons found himself face down against the cedar floor, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and nose. His cheek stung, eyesight blurry from tears welling up against his eyelids. Broken shards of bottle were scattered around him like some sick mosaic, the stench of wafted into his broken nose. Edward stood over him, a killing, fixated glare held strong by his honey-colored eyes. "How dare you…" Edward spat at him, fist clenching and unclenching at the slight of his victim sprawled out in front of him.

Fear rose in Alfons' throat. As he foolishly attempted propping himself on his elbows, a look of terror sat scrawled against his features. How could he apologize? How could he calm his now outraged friend? "I… I'm-"

Another loud slam as mechanics hit skin. Alfons was thrown back like a sack of potatoes yet again, this time colliding into that soft, satin chair now stained with Ed's drunken essence. For a moment his consciousness faded, resuming as more terrifying agony swept over his body. As Edward staggered over him, Alfons rolled on his side, avoiding another abusive hit from his inmate. "Ed! Stop it!"

The enraged alchemist did not take heed. "How dare you call my brother fake?" Though his voice, slurred and jumbled, was almost unrecognizable, Alfons knew all too well what Edward felt. The wine splattered all over the floor went unnoticed, Ed slipping and sliding his way over to Alfons in order for a better effect. Alfons found it more humorous than serious.

It seemed that Alfons' slight giggle broke Edward's miserable barrier. He paused, looking confused at the sudden change in atmosphere. So, maybe Edward Elric was not all bite tonight. Taking advantage of his friend stupefied state, Alfons scrambled to his feet, grabbing the darker blonde's hands and pushing Edward back against the couch. Taking a seat himself, Alfons looked sadly at Ed, but to everyone's (pleasant) surprise the man who desperately sought and craved independence hit bottom, bursting into uncontrollable wails and sobs. These shrill screams of misery were unlike anything Ed had thrown Alfons before; they were filled with agony, loss, and a young boy's fear. Alfons never saw anyone's cries as fierce and passionate as Edward's, and it broke his heart.

In all respects, Alfons followed a moral and rigorous Christian path. Often chided by Edward, he did study the bible explicitly and attend Sunday church. He also believed in love only between a man and a woman and sex after marriage; tonight that all changed. Alfons felt an instinctual need, a need to hold Edward, to comfort and calm him like a father might when his daughter comes running to him because of monsters under her bed. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around Ed's shivering shoulders, pulling him in for a sense of comfort and belonging. The results were unexpected. Instead of the anticipated push away from compassion, Ed launched himself at Alfons, grabbing him around the waist and crying bloody murder into his chest. It was unclear if this was Ed or the alcohol talking.

Taken aback, Alfons could do nothing but pat him on the back.

Sniffling, Edward clung tighter as confessions spilled out of his mouth like a river breaking through a dam. Some of them Alfons recognized from previous talks, but others were foreign, leaving the young alchemist's memory so suddenly Edward did not have time to recollect. He cried out for things, for people. Mesmerized, Alfons listened faithfully as Edward bawled. "It w-was all muh-my f-fau…lt" and "wuh-we j-just wanted to… to s-s-see her… again." A memory flickered in Alfons' brain; Edward told him about how he and his brother tried saving his dead mother with no success. The sobs turned into loud whimpers, yet the tears never slowed.

So Alfons leaned over and kissed his comrade in the forehead, stroking matted, oily blonde locks now stained with salty tears. Edward's whimpers continued as he pressed his tear stained face deeper into the German's already wet shirt. "Shh. There, there," coaxed Alfons, desperately trying to calm Edward down before be hurt himself unintentionally.

"I… miss them," groaned Edward, releasing his iron grip ever so slightly. The other boy's heartstrings tightened so unbearably he couldn't retain the rear strolling down the side of his cheek. Nevertheless, he continued stroking Edward's mangled hair, a soft melody flowing from his lips. He remembered when he himself had been troubled at a young age, crying on his mother his woes and worries. She used to sing to him, and if Edward was like anything he preached, his mother did the same all those years ago.

"_Midnight, not a sound from the pavement…"_

Under his protective grasp, Edward flinched, seemingly embarrassed by the lullaby; Alfons' couldn't help but chuckle at the non German's hypocritical modesty. Unhinged by his friend's lack of thanks, Alfons' continued with the music, pulling Edward's head towards him, beckoning a peaceful slumber bestowed on the elder teenager.

"_Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone…"_

Blush crept beneath the darker blonde's cheeks, dusting them with essence of rose petals. Edward related to the song in a deep, meaningful way. Though Alfons unaware of the fact, the music touched Edward in a way the German born man could never understand.

"_Memory, all alone in the moonlight…"_

Ever so slowly, Edward dipped his head, eye drooping slightly as the powerful music penetrated his steel cold heart. Alfons' soothing voice drifted aimlessly around the four walls of their god forsaken home, as if both lived in an actual opera theatre; man, could the guy sing.

"_I can smile at the old days…"_

Alfons held Edward tighter, nuzzling his blonde friend affectionately. All the drunkenness seeped out of him like oil, an invisible puddle at their feet. Though he still seemed awake, Edward's breathing slowed to a rhythmic, unedited pace. He moaned gently, shifting on Alfon's lap like a stray cat. The lighter blonde stroked the long, now almost undone ponytail, an admirable- if not unusual- feature his little Edward possessed.

"_I was beautiful then…"_

Half asleep, Edward's mind traveled back in time to his youth, remembering how he and Alphonse used to play by the creek, collecting clay and practicing their alchemic knowledge. He'd only wanted to make his father proud; he hadn't meant for anything bad to happen… Edward squeezed his eyes shut at the painful memory, curling up tighter as if protecting himself from an unknown force. Alfons picked up on this fast, grabbing his friend's hand and gently lifting it to his cheek, placing Edward's own skin and bones appendage to Alfons' tender, now rosy cheek. Staring passionately into his eyes, Alfons did his best at willing whatever monsters haunted this broken boy.

_If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is…"_

Bright ocean hues met tear-filled molten gold, Edward's face still turned in a fearful grimace, as if holding back yet another wave of angry, saddened mourns. Unexpectedly, Edward wrapped his arms around his dear friend, crying heatedly into his shoulder. It was not until now Alfons' realized how emotionally deprived Edward had become. But he just smiled, placing a hand behind the other's head soothingly.

"_Look, a new day has begun."_

For the rest of the night, the two sat there, yet Alfons never fell weary. Looking intimately at his friend's now fallen eyelids he reached over, moving wet strands of hair from his comrade's closed eyes, kissing them ever so gently. "I love you, Edward Elric."

And so it was for the rest of the night, until the sun would peek it's sleepy eyes over the horizon, that Edward Eric and Alfons Heiderich lay in each other's arms, unaware of what lie ahead of them in a fast car.

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AN: yes, I know that I jumped around with the Memory lyrics, but I just wanted to pick things significant to the storyline. I hoped that you liked it; it's one of the more intimate scenes I've written. And it just goes to show you don't need sex in a yaoi story, and that friendship can be just as beautiful.


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